


I'm Game

by TheCohort



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: /, Alternate Universe, Christmas fic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Rating subject (and likely) to change, abandoned fandom?, abandoned work, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCohort/pseuds/TheCohort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mack can't afford to fly home for Christmas. His friend Hunter, in an attempt to supply his friend with holiday plans, posts a flyer titled: "Alone for the holidays? Mad at your family? Read On!"</p><p>Leo Fitz is the idiot who actually calls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I promised myself I would start posting this before Christmas. Just barely managed it. Anyway, this is based off of [this](http://ivyaura.tumblr.com/post/103240415337/well-i-know-what-im-doing-this-thanksgiving) delightful (craigslist?) page I saw going around for thanksgiving. 
> 
> Flying in the face of all tradition and common sense, this was written sober and edited drunk. So, y'know, if there're any horrendous errors let me know. 
> 
> Next chapter should be up tomorrow night.

Fitz honestly can't say why he thought that grabbing the creased flyer had been a good idea. He'd barely even read past the first sentence beneath the title. But he'd been dreading the coming holidays and the words "Mad at your family?" had caught his eye and he had thought, 'yeah, I bloody well am mad at my family. They fucking suck.'

Next thing he knew his coat pocket was holding a hastily folded piece of printer paper with a photo of an admittedly very attractive man and a poorly formatted bullet point list beside it.

Fitz doesn't actually read the whole thing until he's sitting at home, curled up on the couch with the flyer laid over his crossed legs. His cell phone is set meaningfully at his side and his mind is racing trying to figure out what went wrong with the world that something as ridiculous as the paper in his lap was possible. His eyes keep drawing to the photo, to the extremely photogenic man grinning out at him, and then down to the phone number.

Fitz is gonna sound like a crazy person if he calls.

But then again, he's not the one who posted the damn thing in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s cafeteria.

But the man in the photo looks so sensible?

Fitz sighs, attempts to swallow down the nervous lump in his throat and grabs the phone. He manages to dial the number all right despite the shaking in his hands and he sits in mounting terror as the dial tone rings.

Fitz might throw up.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi. Is this..." Fitz glances down to the paper. "Alphonso?" That had to be a fake name, right?

"Yeah, just Mack is fine." The deep, American voice says. "Who is this?" He sounds suspicious, actually.

"Oh! Uh. Hi. My name is Fitz. Or, no it's Leopold, but I go by my last name, too." Good lord he's already making a fool of himself. Fitz snaps his mouth shut and takes a slow breath through his nose. "I'm calling about your um. Paper."

"Gonna have to elaborate on that, Fitz."

"The um, the one in the cafeteria? It was taped up by the coke machine." Mack doesn't say anything. "The one about per- uh. pre?" Fitz shakes his head in disagreement with himself. "Acting as a date?"

"What?"

Oh no. "Oh no." Fitz mutters aloud.

"How bout' you read it to me." Mack suggests.

Fitz thinks about the poorly formatted bullet points. "I don't think I want to."

Mack sighs. "Please do."

Fitz takes a shaky breath. He feels suddenly terribly sorry for himself, yes, but also for this Mack person. Luckily, Fitz can do pretty well reading aloud, and manages to only trip over the occasional word as he proceeds to embarrass himself and a complete stranger.

"Well, it starts with the title... area? Anyway, it says: Alone for the holidays? Mad at your family? Read on!" Fitz doesn't even try to sound enthusiastic about the exclamation mark. He sighs and continues. "It's the holiday season. Tired of relatives asking why you're still single? Angry because your parents keep implying they'd like grandchildren? Want to shut them up with a date they'll disapprove of? If so, read on."

This is where on the flyer a photo of Mack was inserted, but Fitz decides not to tell him about it, since the thought of someone posting a photo of himself for the world to see is horrifying.

Fitz bites his lip, now at the bullet pointed list he'd been dreading. "The uh... the next part is a list. it says:  
\- I'm a mechanic, the grease stains are practically permanent!  
\- I'm American." Fitz stops.

Mack has been silent up until this point but when Fitz continues to stall he asks "What?"

Fitz gives a little huff and reads: "- Racist Family? I'm Black!"

Mack groans.

"And then there's a little, 'I'm willing to do the following' section." Fitz reads:  
"If you'd like to have me as your strictly platonic date, but have me pretend to be in a very long or serious relationship with you to torment your family, I'm game!

I can:  
\- wear offensive holiday sweaters  
\- start instigative arguments with family  
\- propose to you in front of everyone  
\- start an actual, physical fight with a relative (I'll win, too)  
\- flirt with the other female guests at the party..."

Fitz stops at that. Was the ad only meant for women? Then he shakes his head. He reminds himself that Mack clearly hadn't meant the ad for anyone.

"You can stop reading." Mack says. He sounds pissed, though by the muttered "god dammit, Hunter" that Fitz hears he's pretty sure he's not about to be yelled at. Whoever Hunter is though... Mack interrupts the thought. "Man, why did you even call? What about any of _that_  seemed like a good idea?"

Fitz panics. He knew he would have to explain but suddenly he feels like crying. He holds it in, thinking about what to say when suddenly it just pours out. "Because I am mad! I'm so angry I just, I wanted to. My family treats me like I'm broken and I- and I- I can't stand the way the look at me. I just wanted to. Wanted them to see I'm still a person. Show them someone out there wants to talk to me." Fitz takes a deep breath. "Even if it's not true. Even if I have to ask a stranger I just wanted to shove it in there faces that someone cares."

Mack is silent and Fitz is shaking.

Fitz hangs up.

He wraps his arms around knees and wipes his frustrated tears off on the denim of his jeans.

When his phone starts buzzing Fitz ignores it.


	2. Invitation-by-text

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a happy holiday. Here's another chapter.

The first text says:  ** _We should talk._**

The second, sent two hours after the first, says: **_If you're still interested I have lunch at the Open Roast Cafe everyday around 2._**

Fitz doesn't delete them, can't bring himself to hit the trash can symbol, but he determines to ignore them. It had been a silly whim in the first place so letting the idea go shouldn't be hard at all. Fitz doesn't think about it; he barely uses his phone the entire day after.

He doesn't think about texting Mack's number. Doesn't feel the weight of his phone in his pocket like it's suddenly grown to 15 pounds. The anxious, vaguely sick feeling he has is just excitement over the coming weekend and all the plans he doesn't have. The perpetual knot in his stomach doesn't at all resemble the feeling he had had the one time he missed an important assignment at university, sitting in a depressed slump as he had watched the deadline tick closer and chose not to do anything about it.

He's definitely not thinking about visiting the cafe one afternoon when two days after his disastrous phone call he overhears one of his coworkers talking about their holiday plans.

And _then_  he's thinking about it.

Later that night, staring at the ceiling above his bed, he's still thinking about it.

And that's how he finds himself, three days after the original invitation-by-text, standing in front of unfamiliar green doors, the smell of coffee strong even out on the street. Fitz thinks of the photo of Mack in his pocket. He can't really imagine the slouched, plaid wearing mechanic sitting around in a little cafe until he opens the door and sees the place in full.

The interior looks more like an old pub with brick walls and dark wood furniture everywhere. There also seems to be some kind of outdoorsy, northern cabin theme that Fitz isn't really surprised would appeal to an American. Fitz is pretty sure their country was founded on the idea of "go to the wild". Idiotic, really.

Fitz spots Mack easily, seated in the far corner and facing the entrance. Fitz hops into the short line and resists looking back at the other man. Mack doesn't know what he looks like; Fitz can feel his nerves mounting again and the fact that he can still leave with Mack none the wiser is probably the only thing keeping that panic from boiling over.

Fitz doesn't actually like coffee, he doesn't know what anything on the menu means and when he gets to the counter he just asks the barista, "Something sweet?"

"Size?"

"Uh, small."

She grins, "One small, Nutty Irishman coming up."

Fitz frowns and blurts, "I'm Scottish."

Now she's looking at him like he's an idiot. Of course she knows he's Scottish, she works in London; she can probably identify every accent that comes through the place. And is that actually the name of the drink? Fitz glances up at the menu and there it is, in swirling calligraphy: The Nutty Irishman- hazelnut and Irish creme latte.

Fitz frowns up at the sign.

Is that allowed? How has an actual Irishman not complained and had it taken down, yet? He's busy staring at the sign, misses it when she tells him the price and just hands her a crumpled five pound note. He takes his change and shuffles down toward the pickup counter, looking anywhere but the back corner.

The photos on the wall all seem nice. A little bland. Fitz thinks they might seem nicer if he actually knew something about photography.

His drink comes far quicker than Fitz would like; before he's quite gotten a handle on his nerves. He grabs his drink, takes a deep breath, and turns around.

Mack is looking at him. Mack is looking right at him and Fitz panics, does an about face and strides in the opposite direction.

He stops on the sidewalk stoop, door closed behind him, and just thinks: Fuck it.

Fitz turns, walks back through the door and straight to the table where Mack is seated, eyebrows raised in surprise as Fitz pulls out a chair and sits down across from him. Fitz opens his mouth to say something - anything- but all he manages is a funny clicking noise in the back of his throat so he takes a sip of his drink.

Mack leans back in his seat and grins. "That's fine. I can start the introductions. I'm Mack."

Fitz frowns. "I know that."

Mack looks surprised again. "Fitz?"

"Course. Who else would I be?"

Mack shakes his head and laughs. "You never know. Didn't think you were ever gonna show." Fitz nods and takes a sip of his drink. "Alright, jumping right in. I thought about it. For like, ten minutes, sure, but if you still want me to tag along to your family get-together I'm down."

Fitz is a little surprised, knew Mack wanted to at least talk about it but he hadn't expected him to seem so... eager? He definitely seems to be getting into the emotional range of eager. "Just like that?" Fitz asks.

"Well, no. We need to figure out the details. Kinda thought you'd give me a little pitch, describe how your family does holidays. Maybe beg a little." Fitz doesn't say anything and Mack's grin softens to something a little more genuine. "I'm kidding."

"Who made the paper?" Fitz asks.

"Ah." Mack eyes Fitz. "Did you bring it?" Fitz shakes his head and Mack sighs. "Hunter, friend of mine, put it up. Wouldn't tell me what all was on the thing. Anyway, I can't afford to fly home this year. Guess he thought he could at least get me a home-cooked meal."

Fitz squints in confusion. "Why? Why not just... um. Offer? Offer you his?"

"Invite?"

"Yes. Invite you to his."

Mack gives a huff, not looking impressed. "Man, if even two percent of the crap he's told me about them is true I want nothing to do with it. I mean, you've seen what he thinks is a good idea. I can't deal with an entire family of Hunters."

Fitz doesn't think his family would be a better choice.

"So... What's the plan?" Mack asks.

"Uh..." Fitz hadn't actually thought too much about the details. He stops. Thinks about the second house where they have their get-together, the family and the friends who will inevitably pop in one evening or another. "Actually. It's kind of a... whole weekend thing."

Mack looks a bit wary at that. "Weekend?"

"Yeah. We have a... not a cottage. But a second house for. Breaks. Holidays."

"Like a vacation home?" Mack suggests after a moment.

"Yes!" Fitz feels a rush of relief. "Vacation home. In the countryside."

Mack looks down at his plate, possibly contemplating whether or not to eat the last few chips, before he gives another slow nod. "I can get the time off."

Fitz can't believe it's this easy. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Mack does eat one of the chips and grins. "You're not gonna bail on me now, are you?"

"No." Fitz mutters. He's already considered doing just that at least five times since he sat down.

"Who's in charge of everything?"

Fitz frowns. "What?"

"Who owns the vacation house? Who's the host?" Mack clarifies.

"Uh... my Mum I guess."

"You should call her."

"What?" Fitz does not like that idea. Not at all.

"Rude not to warn her of an extra guest."

"Oh." That's probably a good point. Mack raises an expectant eyebrow and Fitz splutters and gapes. "What, now?"

Mack shrugs, like it's that fucking easy. "Why not?"

Just the thought makes Fitz throat close up and he takes a shaky sip of coffee to try and ease the growing nerves. Mack is still looking at him expectantly and Fitz doesn't like that either. "I... um. I can't. or-"

"Hey, hey." Mack leaning forward to look into Fitz ducked face, "It's okay. You don't have to worry about it right now."

Fitz gives a little sigh and nods, still clinging to the paper coffee cup.

"Not a fan of the phone, huh?"

"Is anyone?" Fitz mutters.

Mack laughs, a deep, surprisingly loud sound in the quiet cafe. "Fair enough."

Fitz nods and sips at his drink. Watches Mack finish off his plate. It's silent. Just for a moment, but Fitz kind of likes it.

"I've gotta get going pretty quick here, but I want to ask. The flyer that Hunter posted? It kinda emphasized making your family mad, but that's not quite what you wanted, is it?"

Fitz shakes his head. "Not really. I just want to show them that I can still, uhm. I'm still a person?"

"Make them feel a little guilty?"

Fitz huffs. "Makes it sound mean when you say it like that."

"Well alright, Fitz." Mack stands, seeming huge now that Fitz can see his full height. "It was nice meeting you. You've still got my number?"

Fitz nods.

"Alright, don't freak out as soon as I'm gone." He smiles in a way that makes it clear that he knows just as well as Fitz does that that's not gonna happen. "I'll see you around."

When Mack's gone Fitz freaks out.

But only a little.

 


	3. Spicy

Fitz is laying on the couch, half asleep as he watches a documentary on the new world monkeys that he's already seen once or twice (Four times actually. He can afford to dose since he can practically recite the narrators speech about brachiation at the drop of a hat. He probably has. It's a topic that comes up a lot when he's at a loss for anything better to say) when his phone chirps with a text.

_**I got the time off, you call your mom yet?** _

Fitz supposes that makes it official then. Mack's taken the time off even after admitting he can't afford to fly home. He sends back a simple _**working on it**_ before pulling himself off of the couch and into the kitchen.

Fitz doesn't like drinking. Honestly. But sometimes, when there's an unpleasant task he must accomplish, he just needs a drink of the 'liquid courage' variety. It calms him down and makes it easier to speak out loud.

Fitz pulls out the bottle of tequila from where it's been shoved to the back of the cupboard, takes a shot, takes another and fumbles with his phone looking for his mum's number. He can already feel the tequila kicking in when he finds the number and gets the nerve to press the call button. That's the nice thing about tequila, moves through the system fast (he'll be cursing that same trait in two hours when he starts feeling queasy).

"Leo! Is that you, honey?"

Fitz winces, she sounds so cheerful, Fitz knows immediately that she's frowning on the other end of the line.

"Yes. Hi. I'm calling about next weekend. I've uh, I'm bringing a... um." What should Fitz even say? "Friend?"

"Oh!" Well, that surprise is genuine at least. "Who is it?"

"Mack." Fitz says, then thinks maybe he should elaborate. "His name is Mack." Well, that's elaborate enough.

"Well, all right. The guest rooms are going to be full but I think we have another inflatable mattress lying around somewhere, if he doesn't mind."

"No. That's, uhm. Not necessary." Fitz is really glad he drank that tequila. "He'll be in my room." He says, not as confidently as he'd been trying for but clear enough.

His mum is silent.

"Plus he's really tall. I don't think he'd uhm... be small enough for the air bed."

"Oh."

Fitz frowns, fingers tapping at the plastic cover of his phone. "Is that okay?"

"Yes! Oh, of course. That's fine Leo."

"Okay. I probably won't call before... later. Again. I'll see you--."

"Just a moment, Leo." His mom interrupts before he can hang up and get the call over with. "Should we find a present for your friend? I know Christmas shouldn't be all about getting presents, but I wouldn't want anyone to feel left out."

"What?" Fitz hadn't even considered that.

"Are there any traditions he'd like to show us? Really, I'm sure we'd have time for something new. If you gave me a list of things he's interested in I could--"

"Mum. No." Fitz sighs. She would over-think it. "Mack's very. uh. Mack's calm. The er- laid back. Type. He'll be fine. Don't do anything crazy. I have to go. We'll see you."

His mum hums over the line, "Well, all right. Travel safe. I love you."

"Yeah. You too. For both."

Fitz hangs up and texts Mack: _**have called. sucked. you owe me snacks.**_  and then adds 'get Mack a present' to his mental list of things to do before they leave.

His phone pings in his hand with: _**what's your address? I'll bring curry.**_

Fitz hadn't meant to imply he needed that snack NOW, but with the alcohol in his belly and the promise of warm food, Fitz can't find much wrong with the suggestion. He sends back his address and a side note _**nothing too spicy for me**_.

Fitz kind of likes having someone to text. Texting always seems easier than speaking now; he can take the time to think of really tricky words without it being apparent how much he struggles with communicating. Plus, without the verbal aspect he doesn't have to worry about his mouth matching his mind.

Mack shows up fairly quickly after that, likely living in the area. Fitz is pretty sure Mack works at S.H.E.I.L.D. as well, since both the cafe and Fitz apartment are within a 20 minute walk of the building. He grabs the paper bag of food out of Mack's arms and quickly moves it into the small kitchen, quickly pulling out cartons and spreading them across the counter.

"Glad to see you're in a good mood." Mack says with a grin. "Wasn't sure what to expect after that text." He grabs the carton Fitz is looking into right out of his hands. "Spicy." he says when Fitz pouts up at him.

"About that." Fitz says, reminded of the phone call earlier. "We'll have to share a room."

"Yeah of course." Mack says, grabbing a fork.

Fitz gapes at Mack. Watching him calmly take a bite of something round and covered in orange sauce.

"What?" Mack asks despite the full mouth. He shrugs, swallows and adds, "I kind of figured. To sell the 'relationship' thing."

"R-right." Fitz mumbles.

"That's why I offered to get take-out. Thought we could get to know each other a bit. Get the bases covered so when the usual questions come up we have matching answers." He sets the carton he was eating from back down to search through his back pockets, brandishing a folded sheet of paper with another grin. "Got a list, actually. Friend of mine made it up for me."

"Weird thing to ask a friend."

"Nah. She's... familiar with the dumb things Hunter does. Told her about it and she offered advice. Plus, she's kind of an actress, so she had some tips."

Fitz frowns and looks up from the plate he'd been scooping rice and curry onto. "Kind of an actress?"

Mack waves it off and takes another bite of his food, reading over the list as he chews. "She's got some good suggestions on here. Wouldn't have thought of most of it. Like, how do you take your tea and coffee?"

Fitz huffs. "Why does that- Why is it important?"

"Well think about it. If you can make up someone's coffee without asking, y'know it's kinda intimate. Implies a lot of mornings spent together."

Fitz grabs his plate and moves out of the kitchen, tugging on Mack's sleeve as he passes and leads the way to the couch. "I like them with cream and sugar." He thinks about it. "Lots." he adds. He flops down on the couch where he had been sleeping earlier, it's actually the only real place to sit in his apartment, and asks, "You?"

Mack sits down a little more carefully than Fitz, clearly not wanting to spill his food on the couch despite it's obvious second hand state. "Coffee black with a couple spoon-fulls of sugar and tea black." He must catch Fitz look of disgust because he laughs and explains, "generally not a big fan of tea, and milk and sugar don't make it any less obvious that it's tea."

"And you like spicy food." Fitz says, musing aloud.

"mmhmm." Mack hums around another mouthful. "You work at S.H.E.I.L.D., too, right?"

"Engineering department. You?"

"Well, you already know I'm just a mechanic." He gestures to his torn and grease stained jeans. "I work in the garage running maintenance on company vehicles."

Fitz scoffs. "Just a mechanic." he mutters. "I've seen the stuff they fit those vehicles with, you must be pretty good."

Mack laughs. "Yeah, you design any of it?"

"Maybe."

Mack grins and shakes his head.

They're both quiet after that. Eating in a comfortable silence that has Fitz glad that Mack offered to bring over food. Spending time with him is surprisingly easy, and Fitz is starting to think that the coming weekend won't be too bad. Might actually work. His family will probably feel guilty, yes, but more importantly, with Mack as his date they might finally see what they've been doing wrong.

Mack breaks the silence after a long while, placing his empty carton on the coffee table and saying, "I gotta ask, how far are you comfortable going with all this?"

Fitz can feel the heat in his face as he sputters around a chunk of carrot. "What?"

Mack huffs. "Slow down there turbo, I didn't mean that." He says that but he follows it up with a wink and Fitz isn't so sure. Can't say for sure what Mack even thought he was thinking. "I just meant, we'll have to act like a couple around your family. If I were actually dating you I'd be pretty tactile." he shrugs, "I like to touch. I figure the best way to make it believable is to just do what I'd usually do. But I need to know if there's anything you don't want me doing."

Fitz rolls his eyes. "Let's not make out in front of them, or anything." Fitz can't think. Or rather, he can't think of all the things Mack might do to him without getting nervous and giddy. And there's too many possibilities to try and consider everything that might make him uncomfortable. He waves a shaky hand. "Use your own... um." He frowns. "Huh. The uh..." He smacks Mack on the shoulder, why he isn't sure but the word is on the tip of his tongue and if he can just...

"Judgement?"

"Yes!" Fitz grins. "Use your own judgement. I-" He sighs. "You seem more- you seem to know what your doing. More than me."

Mack hums. "And what are we going with here? You want the serious relationship angle?"

Fitz nods.

"So none of the honeymoon phase nonsense." Mack nods, slowly, leans forward and brings a hand to run over his mouth as he thinks it over.

He smiles and says, "I can do that."


	4. Chapter 4

They met a couple times for lunch before the Christmas weekend finally rolled around. Christmas fell on a Friday that year, and Fitz and Mack both managed to get Wednesday through Saturday off. It was, to Fitz' delight, quite a bit more than a weekend.

They meet at the train station early Wednesday morning, each carrying a suitcase and a hot styrofoam cup. Their train arrives at the platform, everyone whips out their tickets and files onto the train, then they all shuffle to their seats, careful to avoid any unnecessary eye contact before 9 am. Fitz and Mack are among the few who aren't travelling alone and manage to grab an empty pair of seats before each isle is filled with its own solitary rider.

Mack seems content to sit in silence while Fitz takes his time joining the land of the fully conscious. Fitz stares blankly out of the window while he cradles his cup of tea and Mack reads a beat-up looking paper-back.

They're well under way by the time Fitz finishes his tea, but even then it's still only eight thirty in the morning. It'll still be another four hours before they reach the train station in Edinburgh. Then another hour and a half bus ride to the small town of Falkland where another bus should take them near enough to the family house. They'll be there by 3 which gives them an evening with just his family before their friends join them for Christmas eve.

Eventually Fitz tells Mack all of this. Tells him about his mum, Theresa, friendly and anxious, and about his dad, Harold, who is generally happiest in silence. He warns Mack about great aunt Evelyn who ranges from wildly inappropriate to mind-numbingly dull. Fitz actually finds her company to be the most bearable of the three since she'll hold up both sides of a conversation all on her own. Fitz doubts his family will have any problems with Mack, he's laid-back and calm and he lets Mack know this. Reassures them both that everything will be fine.

After that there's only so much you can do to keep yourself entertained on a train with no wi-fi, so Fitz resigns himself to the frustration that is locomotive napping. He slouches down in his seat, closes his eyes and tries his best to ignore the jolting of the train.

\---

Fitz is nudged awake, mind groggy despite the less than ideal sleeping conditions. He frowns, taking in the wet feel of drool against his face and on his pillow. He's not sure what woke him until he hears Mack say, "Our stop is coming up."

Fitz jerks upright and away from where he had been slouched against Mack's shoulder, eyeing the dark patch of drool on Mack's flannel with horror. He rubs faintly at his lower lip and mumbles, "Sorry."

Mack shrugs and smiles. "Don't worry about it. You can return the favor when we get on the bus."

Fitz blushes. He watches Mack stand to grab their luggage from the overhead compartment and says, "I think you'd crush me."

He doesn't.

They find seats on the bus and Fitz concludes Mack must be able to sleep anywhere because he's got his knees propped up on the seat in front of him and is slouched halfway down the seat just to get his head level with Fitz' shoulders to use him as a pillow. There's no way it's a comfortable position to sleep in but Mack manages it anyway.

Fitz spends the ride watching the passing landscape and listening to Mack's steady breathing.

\---

The bus drops them off at the end of the country lane where his family's cottage lies. It's a bit of a walk, but the skies are calm and the air isn't too cold. The houses all look more or less the same on this road. Two story homes with worn roof tiles and modest gardens, surrounded by wide tracts of grass and stone.

Fitz' mum answers the door, she's short and plump, with tightly curled hair like Fitz' own and he has to bite down a smile watching her crane her neck up to look at Mack. Mack gives her that grin, the big one that Fitz has been pretending doesn't make his stomach flip with butterflies, and just like that she's been won over. She smiles and ushers them in.

"You must be Mack." She gushes as they hang up their coats on the rack beside the door. "I'm Theresa. Harold is out, ran up to the store to get me more flour and a case of beer, but he'll be back soon." She seems to hesitate a moment but once Fitz has toed his shoes off she wraps him in a hug. "It's good to see you."

Fitz returns the hug. It's a bit stiff. His family was never very tactile before the accident. It's nice, but he never feels like he knows how to react. He glares at Mack over her shoulder when he catches his amused smile.

That done, her attention swings back to Mack. "Tell me Mack, do you know how to bake? I've been kneading dough all day and my arms are just about ready to give out."

Fitz groans. "Jesus, mum. We haven't even... unloaded." He frowns. That's not quite right. It's close but there's something better he could have used. He snaps his fingers, a weird tick he can't seem to stop doing.

Mack hums and offers, "Unpacked?"

Fitz nods. "Yeah. We haven't even unpacked yet."

"Oh of course, I'll let you show Mack where the bedrooms are." His mum says. She sounds a little uncomfortable, but she's still smiling softly so Fitz thinks it's okay. Fitz is hoping all of her discomfort is over the fact that Fitz has never brought home a date before, man or woman, and nothing else.

Fitz eyes the staircase up to the second floor and bites down another groan. Wheelie suitcases are great but they're not much help with stairs. He's hefting the heavy case up when suddenly the weight is out of his hands and Mack's saying, "I got it, babe. You just lead the way."

Fitz freezes, surprised by the name, and glances back at Mack. Who is grinning. Of course he is.

Fitz huffs and rolls his eyes, smiling despite himself and definitely not looking at his mum as he leads Mack up the stairs. He doesn't actually want to know what her reaction to the pet name was, enjoying the giddy feeling in his stomach and not wanting to ruin it in case she looks at all disapproving.

Fitz room had never seemed particularly small, but now, with a weekend of sharing ahead of him he doesn't know how they'll make it work. It doesn't help that Mack has to be the tallest person Fitz has ever met. He's not even sure Mack will be able to fit all of himself onto the mattress. His family has never had to buy a mattress for anyone much taller than 5'10.

Mack doesn't seem too phased by the size of the room, dropping the bags at the end of the bed and asking, "We don't actually have to unpack, do we?"

"Nah. I just wanted to... settle a bit."

"Your mom seems nice." Mack says, pushing his own bag beneath the bed and dropping down onto the mattress with a sigh.

"Yeah. She's." Fitz frowns. Not sure what to say. "High energy."

Mack grins. "I take it there's gonna be a lot of baking these next couple days?"

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Nah, happy to help."

Fitz would respond but he hears the front door open and close. Can hear the indistinct hum of his dad's voice talking to his mum. Hears her softer response. And then it's quiet. Fitz frowns and tries to listen harder. They can't be done talking, can they?

"I think they're whispering." he muses aloud.

"Ah." Mack huffs. "The 'your son brought home a six foot four black man' talk." Fitz wants to deny it, but the words get stuck in his throat and Mack just looks amused. "It's not the first one I've caused."

"A- oh." Fitz thinks about that. 'your son brought home six foot four black man'. 'your son-'   "I thought you were straight." Fitz blurts.

"No." Mack's got an eyebrow raised and a crooked smirk on his lips. "You thought a straight guy was willing to fake-date you to fool your family?"

"But. The flyer. It only mentioned women." Fitz blinks on a thought and groans. "But you didn't write the flyer."

"No, Turbo, I did not."

Fitz sighs and slumps onto the bed beside Mack.

"That a problem?"

Fitz frowns at that. Mack sounds genuinely worried and Fitz shakes his head quickly to reassure him. "Just means you know what your doing. Even more."

Mack huffs. "Amazingly enough, I've never pretended to date someone." He nudges Fitz and smiles. "Zero experience there."

"Huh." Fitz is stuck a bit on that smile, eyes stuck on Mack's lips as he blurts, "I've never dated. Dunno what I'm even pretending."

Mack laughs, surprised and grinning, "Damn Fitz."

"What?" Fitz asks, trying not to feel hurt.

"Hard to believe, is all. You seem alright."

Fitz frowns. Thing is, part of what Fitz likes about Mack is that he seems honest. Kind of blunt. He doesn't have any reason to lie when they've barely even crossed into friendship territory, but Fitz has never been given the impression that he's a date-able guy.

Mack stands and gestures to the door. "Wanna finish giving me the tour?"

"Not really." But Fitz stands, bracing himself for the complete 'meet the parents' nightmare. Just in case.


	5. Chapter 5

When they get downstairs and into the kitchen Fitz' dad is leaning against the counter with his arms folded and a beer bottle held loosely in one hand. He's a small and unassuming man. He looks a lot like Fitz, really, though his hair lies straight and flat against his head. Fitz is suddenly, strangely grateful for his family's small stature. Fitz has never been the tallest person in the room but standing next to Mack he sort of feels like it.

There's a weird silent moment where everyone in the kitchen looks over everyone else. Fitz' eyes catch his mum's and her wide eyed look has him suddenly worried.

His dad speaks up, gives a grunt and says, "Well, I guess Fitz did warn us you were tall."

Fitz frowns. That is definitely not right. "Warn. No, not right." Fitz pats Mack on the elbow, "I just told them you wouldn't fit on the air bed."

Mack grins, "Thanks for that." Mack holds a hand out. "Alphonso Mackenzie. Just "Mack" is fine."

Fitz holds his breath.

His dad gives a slow nod and takes Mack's hand. "Harold. Just "sir" is fine."

"Uh." Mack looks amused but also a bit terrified. "Yes Sir?"

Fitz dad cracks at that, crooked smile breaking onto his face. "I'm kidding."

Mack and Fitz both sigh in relief.

"Beer?" Harold asks.

"Please." Mack says.

Fitz grins at his mum and takes a beer for himself when his dad passes it over.

 

\---

Dinner that night is awkward. Not awful, but Fitz wasn't kidding when he said he'd never dated. He's never brought anyone, friend or more, home for his parents to meet. He's never had to tell them about someone he was seeing. It's obvious, as they all sit around the kitchen table, that no one is sure what to do in the situation.

In fact, Mack and Aunt Evelyn are the two handling it the best. Mack, who Fitz expects should be the one feeling most uncomfortable, seems to be taking it all in stride. And Aunt Evelyn? Well, Fitz isn't sure she's even realized that anyone else is at all uncomfortable. She had taken one look at Mack and promptly congratulated Fitz and then, much to his horror, told him to "tie that one down".

He's anxious and his mother's lasagna is sitting like a lead ball in his stomach despite being his favorite, when his mum asks, "So how did you two meet?"

Fitz has to pull his hand away from his plate to keep the shaking in his fingers from making his silverware squeal across the porcelain. This is it. They didn't even make it a full day. How had they not thought to discuss this? Why wasn't this on Mack's list of things to establish? Was it so obvious Mack's friend hadn't even bothered to write it down on her list?

Fitz feels Mack's broad palm move to press between his shoulder blades, arm laying across the back of his chair.

Mack smiles and shakes his head. "It's not terribly exciting. We both work at S.H.I.E.L.D. so it was probably only a matter of time before we met. I have lunch at the same place every day; one afternoon he wandered in and caught me watching him." Mack grins and suddenly Fitz is blushing, realizing what's coming next. "Startled Fitz a bit, but he changed his mind once he was outside, marched back in and right up to my table." Mack turns that grin on him and Fitz sighs a little.

Mack is smart. Probably best to stick close to the actual truth.

"Just like that?" His mum asks, looking at Fitz with surprise.

Fitz gives a nervous smile. "He wasn't very subtle."

Mack laughs, "Yeah, okay. But there was nothing subtle about those jeans, either."

Fitz groans, "Oh my god." His face is hot, Mack's still laughing softly and Fitz just knows his mum is gonna--

"Leopold! What have I told you about those ridiculous skinny jeans?"

Fitz smacks Mack's shoulder with the back of his hand. He wants to be mad but Mack's giving him an apologetic smile and his thumb is rubbing circles against Fitz' back. He sighs and grumbles, "They weren't even skinny."

Mack looks like he wants to say something, biting on his lip and mischief clear in his eyes, but he just shakes his head.

Fitz' dad speaks up then, "If my memory serves you used to wear far tighter jeans than Leo ever has."

Fitz' mum rolls her eyes and Fitz gives his dad a grateful smile. "Don't you take his side, Harold." She says. "I still have that photo of you in the short shorts, I'm not afraid to pull it out and show everyone."

Fitz winces. "Please don't."

He's seen the photos. Once was enough.

After dinner someone finds Home Alone playing on television and eventually they all end up in the living room watching, though Fitz is pretty sure no one wants to be. Fitz doesn't mind too much, at least with a movie everyone has an excuse to remain silent.

Plus, after Fitz had taken his spot on the couch Mack had slid down beside him. And because they're "dating" Fitz didn't even have to resist the urge curl up against his side.

The movie is about halfway through when his mum asks, "Do you have a favorite Christmas movie, Mack?"

Fitz frowns, hoping she's not going to suggest watching another one, but Mack shrugs. "Not really. When I was a kid I really liked the Rudolph movie they always played, but now it just kind of creeps me out."

" _That_ creeps you out?" Fitz asks, perplexed.

"Hey, don't judge, man." He pauses, eyeing Fitz and asks, "What's your favorite? I've never asked."

Wow, he's good at this.

Fitz hums, can't really think of anything. "I dunno. Muppets I guess." He thinks for a moment. Then he laughs, remembering a movie he had watched with his best friend Jemma years before. "No, there's that one. The scary one? With uh... the. Christmas goat?"

Fitz doesn't see any recognition flicker over any of the faces watching him, and Mack just raises an eyebrow in question. Now everyone's watching and Fitz can't think. Why had he even said 'Christmas goat'? He really should have just left it at 'the Muppets' why does he even try to make jokes? He groans and adds, "With the... Uh" He pinches the bridge of his nose and asks, "Bad santa?"

"Bad santa?" Mack asks.

Fitz remembers that that is an actual film title and blurts, "But not 'Bad Santa' that movie was awful."

Mack gives a huff of agreement and Fitz gives a shaky sigh, snapping his fingers and trying to find the words.

His mum interrupts, starts to say, "It's okay, Leo. It's not--"

Something makes her stop talking and when Fitz glances away from his lap he see's Mack's arm being lowered back into his own lap.

Mack asks, "A Bad Santa and a Christmas goat?"

Fitz shakes his head. Not 'and'.

"Are they the same thing?" Mack asks.

"Yes!"

"Like one of those creepy old-school Santa myths? With the horns and the sacks and chains for beating naughty kids?"

"Yes!" He throws up his hands in frustration because of course now the word he was looking for is right there. "Oh, my god, Krampus."

Everyone is silent for a beat and then Mack laughs. "Man, you would. Of course you don't think claymation Rudolph is creepy when you're watching Krampus movies."

Fitz can feel his face stretch into a hesitant smile. He feels a little shaky, not terribly great, and he's realizing that Mack might be too prefect for this job. No one has ever just carried on making jokes after helping Fitz through a tough moment. This weekend is going to end and how is Fitz meant to go back to a life with no friends?

He gives a halfhearted roll of his eyes. "It's not that scary." He's too tired to find a better response. Fitz slumps into the couch and eyes the clock on the wall behind the television. It's not even nine yet but he feels drained. Doesn't want to spend any more time with so many people. Not right now. "It's been a... I uh. I might head to bed."

Mack frowns, leaning back into the couch and looking Fitz in the eye. "Alright. You want me to come with or you need a bit alone?"

"That's-" Fitz wants to say 'sweet' wants to say 'yes, please'. Instead he says, "You're fine there. Come up whenever you want."

Mack smiles and nods. "I won't be long."

Fitz stands, hesitates a beat and then gives a little nod. He feels bad about leaving Mack with his family, but he had asked. He gave Mack an out and it hadn't been taken. So... okay. Mack likes his family? Fitz isn't really sure what that means but he probably shouldn't worry about it.

Fitz gets up the stairs and into his room quick as he can. He wants to be out of this shirt with the too tight collar and in bed. Wants to hunker down in his own space.

Fitz is still a little worried. Yeah, of course his parents would want to talk to Mack without Fitz around. Get a better idea of who is supposedly dating their son. That's a thing right? Families are supposed to do that, Fitz thinks.

Or was Fitz supposed to prevent them from going through with it?

He's trying to remember how it all went down in the last rom-com he watched while he's sorting through his suitcase looking for his toothbrush when he remembers that he absolutely does not want to take fake-dating tips from a movie. He shuffles down the hall and brushes his teeth. Changes into a t-shirt and sleeping trousers, and curls up in the bed. He's not really tired, but it feels nice to close his eyes and nestle down into the blankets.

Eventually the bedroom door creaks open, a rectangle of light growing into a triangle through the room. Fitz hears Mack give a whispered, "Hey."

"I'm awake." He mutters. He listens as Mack moves around the room, pulling out his own change of clothes and rifling for his bathroom bag. Eventually that stops and Fitz is pretty sure Mack is just changing in the room so he stays where he is on his side facing the door. "Was everything okay without me?"

Mack hums. "Your family seems alright. Your parents excused themselves pretty quick but I stayed and helped Evelyn fill a chunk of her puzzle."

Fitz groans. "Why would you do that?"

Mack laughs. "Well you said she was your favorite. And she gave me some... rather alarming tips. Concerning my mouth."

"Oh no."

"Mmhmm. She and your uncle were sure into some interesting stuff."

"Grandpa." Fitz corrects. "She married my grandpa after my gran passed."

"Huh." Mack is silent for a beat. "So they were probably quite a bit older than I was imagining for... all of that."

"Yep."

Mack groans. "I'm going to go brush my teeth and end this conversation."

Fitz watches him move to the door and says, "Please do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movie Fitz is thinking of (or more accurately the one I was thinking of) is Rare Exports which is a Finnish horror film. And the reason he says "christmas goat" is because that's what the Finnish word for Santa Clause literally translates to. Seems like the kind of trivia he might have known when he first watched it.
> 
> Also, I've never seen "bad santa" so for all I know it's a great movie. Who knows.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Fitz woke with his nose pressed into a warm shoulder and his feet tangled in the sheets. It's not something he's used to, on either count, and he's not entirely sure what's going on for a moment. It takes a bit for him to recognize the room he's in. Another to remember the dark skin and muscles obscuring part of his vision. He then catches a scent of coffee, the smell surprisingly comforting despite his general distaste for the beverage, and he realizes why he woke up in the first place.

Fitz untangles his feet and rolls over and out of bed.

Mack looks like he's still out cold and Fitz decides to let him be. They're on vacation; it seems like the right thing to do.

He pads slowly down the stairs, pajamas long enough to protect his feet from the cold wood floor at the base of the stairs and the tiles in the kitchen. He finds the coffee cups, not in the cupboard he remembers them in, and is trying to find the sugar when he hears, "Good morning, Fitz."

He startles, whipping around to see his best friend reading a book and drinking coffee at the kitchen table. "Jemma?" How had he not seen her? Her and her parents were longtime family friends; he knew she was coming today but- "What are you doing here so early?"

She smiles at that and her eyebrows raise behind her bangs. "It's almost noon."

Fitz blinks in surprise, looks around himself at the digital clock displaying 11:48am and the bright sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows. How had he missed that? Fitz usually doesn't sleep very well, he's almost always up shortly after dawn these days.

Somehow, Jemma looks like she knows this. She looks pleased.

Fitz is a bit pleased himself. "How was the train up?" He asks.

"Alright. A little hectic. You know how queasy mum gets on public transport."

Fitz gives a sympathetic nod. He had taken a trip with her family once as a kid wherein her mum had spent the entire trip there in the small closet bathroom at the back of the bus.

Fitz has poured himself a mug of coffee, though he still hasn't found the sugar and he's not sure what exactly he means to do with it, when he hears bare footsteps across the wood floor, hears the ceasing of motion as Jemma sits still in her seat. It hasn't registered why that would be before there's a warm arm wrapped around his stomach and Mack's mumbling "good morning" against the top of his head.

Fitz' stomach flips beneath the warm weight of Mack's arm, the next intake of breath making his lungs feel oddly ticklish. Fitz smiles a bit as he looks up at Mack's tired face and says, "Just barely."

Mack huffs and nods to the coffee, "That for me?"

"No. It's not-- it's bad."

Mack raises an eyebrow at that. "Smells okay."

"I can't find the sugar."

"It's on the top shelf." Jemma pipes up, giving them both a sheepish smile when they look over to her, "Above the coffee maker. I actually had to use a pair of tongs to get it for mine."

Fitz can perfectly picture it. "And you put it back?" He huffs.

She gives a little shrug. "I thought that's where it went."

"Why would we keep it there? No one in my family can-- We're all uh. Too short." Fitz gives Mack a grateful smile when he opens the cupboard and hands him the sugar. "Jemma, this is Mack. Mack this is my friend Jemma." He doesn't have to tell her Mack's his boyfriend, right? Mack made sure that was obvious. But maybe he should-

" _Best_ friend." Jemma corrects.

"Best friend." Fitz agrees.

Mack says, "Nice to meet you, Jemma." And Jemma's looking at him like he's the most interesting thing she's seen outside of a microscope in weeks.

It's been a good couple years since Fitz had been interested in Jemma romantically, but he can admit that there had been a small part of him that had hoped bringing a date might make her a bit jealous. Now, having actually met Mack, he can recognize that he is pretty much exactly her type. If any jealousy is taking place it's not of Mack it's of Fitz. Fitz can't even blame her since he's also jealous of Fitz. Jealous of this pretend version of himself that can apparently date a guy like Mack without anyone questioning it.

He mechanically stirs in a couple spoon-fulls of sugar and hands it to Mack, receiving a kiss to the top of his head and a "thanks, babe." for his trouble. Fitz hopes his face isn't too red as he bites down a giddy grin and prepares his own cup of coffee.

"So where is everyone?" Mack asks.

Fitz looks up from his mug and frowns. He hadn't really thought about it. Hadn't noticed past the fact that it was easier to pretend with Mack when his parents weren't around. "That's... good question."

Jemma pushes out the chairs across from her with her feet in invitation. "The 'adults' went out for brunch together."

Fitz nods slowly in understanding despite Mack's amused, "Adults?"

"Adulty adults." Fitz mutters. "Old people."

" _Brunch_." Jemma adds. Packing as much incredulity as she can into that one word.

Mack huffs and takes a seat across from Jemma, slumping down into the chair. Fitz wonders if Mack realizes how often he does that; leaning forward or slouching down to appear smaller. Wonders if he always does this or if it's just because he's spending a weekend around a group of people significantly smaller than himself.

Fitz has a brief moment of concern wondering if Mack had been insecure about his size when he was young and formed the habit then. He shakes himself from the thought. It's none of his business, really. He should be visiting. He takes his seat and a sip of his coffee and winces slightly. The caffeine is great but the taste-

"So how did you two meet?" Jemma asks.

Fitz sighs and lets Mack answer with a repeat of the story he had told Fitz' parents the night before. Fitz had never considered how annoying that question must get for couples. It's only been asked twice and he's already tired of it.

Fitz frowns when he hears her voice hesitantly asking, "How long have you been together?"

It's another question Fitz hadn't been too concerned about having an exact answer to. Hadn't thought of it really. But it's become pretty clear that Mack had mentally prepared for this trip more than Fitz had and he isn't too worried about the question. He takes another sip of his coffee and lets his newest friend talk with his oldest.

"Just a couple of months."

"Really?" Jemma looks surprised. Fitz has a moment of panic before she adds, "You both seem so settled."

"Well that's just-" Fitz isn't sure where he was going with that. He waves a hand, trying to somehow catch an answer. "It wouldn't have lasted long otherwise." He gestures a bit towards his head, hoping his meaning gets across without him explicitly having to bring up his accident. "I like to feel..." what was the word she had used? He frowns and starts to ask, "What was...?"

"Settled?" Mack offers.

"Yes. That one." He nods. He takes a sip of coffee.

"Well," Jemma sighs. "I am glad. We haven't kept in touch too well since I got transferred. Nice to know you've not been moping on your own."

She's teasing, but Fitz knows it's something she's probably been worrying about. He had been moping about it. Off and on. He wishes he _had_  met Mack all those months ago; he certainly would have had an easier time of it all.

"You worked at S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Mack asks.

"Still do, really. I'm at the American branch in D.C."

"They needed her for a top secret project their bio-lab was working on." Fitz adds. Jemma's too polite to brag so he'll do it for her.

Fitz hadn't told Mack too much about Jemma past the fact that her and her family would be joining them for Christmas. He hadn't wanted to face his conflicted feelings about her with an audience, but he's starting to think that was a mistake. Jemma's got that look on her face when she's trying to solve a puzzle, and Fitz thinks the puzzle might just be the fact that he hasn't told his boyfriend- of a couple months apparently- anything about his friend of a couple decades.

Fitz loves his family, really, but they're not nearly as smart as he or Jemma. Going in Fitz knew that if anyone was going to find them out it was her.

He really should have realized how quickly she'd start to suspect something was up.

Jemma is interrupted from replying by the front door opening and Aunt Evelyn loudly declaring, "We're home! Everyone better be up and about or I'm gonna have to see for myself what's so great in that bedroom."

Fitz slumps forward, head in his hands and groans. Mack, arm around the back of Fitz' chair and wearing only the undershirt and flannel pants he had slept in leans back to grin at the door. "Good morning, Evie."

Fitz gives another half-hearted groan.

When Fitz looks up Jemma's trying to hide her smile behind her own coffee mug, and the kitchen is full. His parents are both dressed nicer than usual, for Christmas eve brunch, and Jemma's parents are dressed to match. Her mother has her dark hair pulled up and she's wearing a soft blue skirt and jacket combo that reminds him of something he'd seen in a 50s period drama once. And her father is, amazingly enough, wearing a tie to match the color of his wife's outfit with his casual suit.

Fitz isn't sure why they've bothered. Yeah, it's Christmas eve, but the only restaurants in the area are small pubs and family joints. None of the other diners were likely to have made the effort.

"Fitz," Mrs. Simmons sighs. "It's so good to see you. How have you been?" Her voice is soft but he can still hear the husky rasp that had always made it seem so much deeper than Jemma's.

Fitz grins, feels like the family is officially all together. "I'm all right, Matilda. How is your stomach?"

She gives a little laugh at that. "Oh, you know. Better now that I've ate." Her eyes shift away from Fitz. "And you must be Mack. Heard quite a lot about you at lunch."

Mack's eyebrows raise. Fitz thinks he looks a bit concerned, actually. Fitz says, "That doesn't sound good."

"No, no. All good things." Matilda reassures. She gives Mack a quick wink, "You've certainly made good impressions."

Fitz hears his dad grumble, "Well don't tell him that." From the back hall.

"Glad to hear it." Mack says, grinning easily.

"And now," Fitz mum interrupts as she dons her favorite apron, "You can continue to make a good impression by helping me get the turkey out of the fridge."

Mack is grinning with an "Aye-aye captain." Just as Fitz is protesting, "No wait- we haven't even had breakfast." But it's too late; he's lost his "boyfriend" to the time warp that is assistant kitchen duty.


	7. Chapter 7

Christmas eve is always a busy day in the Fitz household. That night is when they have their big holiday dinner and the entire afternoon is spent putting it together.

It's the first time during the trip that Fitz has been consistently separated from Mack. Mack's been shanghaied into kneading and heavy lifting and the few times Fitz is needed in the kitchen it's to stir stove-top dishes that can't be left to scald. It's the only thing he really _can_  do in the kitchen since his hands make using most utensils a risk.

Instead he's spent most of the day running odd errands with Jemma or his father. And really, he's not kidding. They are _odd_. He and Jemma are knee deep in weeds behind the house, at his mothers request.

"The hell does mint even look like?" he mutters under his breath as he inches through a gap in the suspiciously straight line of stinging nettles growing through the garden.

"Well..." Jemma pauses. "I think it spreads fairly quickly, so _when_  we find it there should be a large patch."

That is, really, not helpful. Everything in the overgrown patch is in thick clumps and Fitz still has no idea what it looks like. "What's she even need it for?" Fitz grumbles.

"I think she said something about adding a couple sprigs to the apple pie. I believe her exact words were 'I saw it on the youtube'."

Fitz groans. "We're doing all this for a- for a small mint?"

"A couple sprigs, yes."

Fitz wants to just... not. What if they just grab a couple of random leaves and tell her it's mint. Would she even notice? Though, it might ruin the pie. Fitz doesn't want to do that.

"Found it!" Jemma says from where she's doubled over to his right. "I think." she adds less enthusiastically. She pulls a couple of leaves to her nose and grins. "Yep."

"Good." Fitz huffs. He's about to say more. Really, once he figures out the words but he's interrupted.

"And how's it coming out here, then?" His Mum asks from where she's just walked around the far corner of the house. Because apparently they were taking too long with the precious mint.

"Well we've found the mint." Jemma says with a grin, holding up her handful of green leaves. "Actually, it looks like you might have multiple varieties growing in here. Really, it's a surprise it took us so long to find it."

"That's wonderful, Jemma. Could you take that into the kitchen for me? I'd like to have a word with Leopold."

Jemma freezes. "Oh... right." She turns to look at Fitz, eyes wide in what Fitz hopes is sympathy and starts walking towards where Fitz mother had come from. "I'll just.. leave you to it." She spares Fitz another look and ducks around the corner.

Theresa sighs. "There's no need for that look, dear. I just wanted to talk."

"You called me 'Leopold'." Fitz grumbles. She used to only do that when he was in trouble.

His mum scoffs. "Well, yes. I did. Because I rather like that name and we haven't had a chance yet to talk, just the two of us." That doesn't sound good. "I wanted to thank you." She continues.

Fitz frowns, now even less sure of where this conversation is going than he'd been before. "What?"

She looks down at her feet and gives a strange smile. Sort of wobbly. "For bringing Mack home for us to meet. You're always so... private, I guess. About your life away from home. You never talk about work, you never mention any friends and you _never_  mentioned seeing anyone." She gives a little sigh. "I'm just glad you let us in on this." She laughs. "Though, a little more warning would have been nice."

"Oh." Fitz would like to say he said it, but it came out a bit more like a squeaky croaking sound.

"I also wanted to apologize."

The choked up feelings in his throat seem to plummet into his stomach. "For what?"

"You've never told me about the accident. Not the details anyway."

Fitz remembers the doctor telling her about the technical side of what had happened. He hadn't wanted to elaborate at the time and doesn't want to talk about it now.

"And Jemma always gets choked up when it's brought up." She continues. "So... I asked Mack what he knew about it. Last night after you'd gone to bed."

Oh no.

"Do you know what he said?"

Fitz shakes his head. Not good.

"He said you hadn't told him, and that he hadn't asked. He said he didn't want to pry and that he wasn't particularly curious."

Fitz feels like he might start panicking. He doesn't want to talk about this on a good day, and the longer the conversation continues the more worried he is that he's been found out. He swallows nervously and practically whispers, "Oh. Did he uh... Did he say why?"

"Yes." She's smiling now. Fitz hopes that's a good sign. The knot in his chest loosens, just a bit. "But if you want to know what it was you'll have to ask him yourself."

Fitz gapes. "What, no."

His mum sighs. "You have to talk about it with someone. Believe me when I say it will make you feel better." Her smile from moments before returns, sadder but there all the same, "Think about it. If not with me then with Mack. He seems like a good listener."

"He is." Fitz mutters, reluctant to agree with anything she's saying. She's probably right but he's sure as hell not happy about it. He sighs. "I'll think about it."

Theresa rolls her eyes. "I suppose that's about what I should have expected, huh?" She smiles and shakes her head. "I'll let you be now. Those pies won't make themselves." She's already turned around when she says, "Oh and Fitz?" She turns back just enough to give him an amused look, "If you were waiting for an official approval from us, that was it."

It takes a minute to parse out what she meant. "Wait... what." Fitz gapes after her before, "What did he say!?"

She doesn't answer and that's the thing. Now he's curious. Fitz knows he'll think about it until he can't resist asking Mack and that's exactly what she wants. Fitz' mum might not be a genius quite like he is, but she's good with people in a way he isn't. And she's always been an expert at navigating Fitz.

She's gone and Fitz breathes a sigh of relief. It's not _so_  cold outside. Maybe he'll just take a moment. A moment away from questions and the people attached to them. He's really considering it when a cold breeze blasts in his face and cuts through his sweater.

Or not.

He's trudging through the cold, back towards the side door, when he almost crashes into Jemma lingering around the corner. He jerks back, avoiding a collision and groans. "God-- dammit Jemma. Were you listening?" There's a better word but Fitz doesn't care to think of it.

Jemma's giving him a look. A thinking look. An utterly unrepentant look. "You and Mack haven't been together three months, have you?"

Fitz knows she knows the answer. But he can't just- "What? Why would you even? Yes. Of course."

Jemma sighs. "Come on, Fitz. No way you've been together that long and he doesn't know what happened to you _just before_  you started dating."

"So maybe I uh- um. Made it bigger. Just a little bit."

"You lied a little bit." Jemma corrects. "You both did, actually." She watches him shift nervously from foot to foot, frowning as she does. "Why?"

Fitz takes a shaky breath. How can he salvage this? He tries to think without making it obvious he's thinking about another lie. He has the absurd thought _what would Mack do?_  and suddenly he can feel himself smiling a little bit. "I uh. I like him. And he didn't have holiday plans. And I didn't want to stay here without a person who... uhm. Knows what I'm saying." Because really, that's what Mack would do. Mack would be as honest as possible. "But it uh- would have been weird to bring someone new, so we kinda lied."

Jemma sighs and shakes her head, "Really, Fitz." It's an admonishment but she sounds fond, so that's a win. "So how long, _really_?"

"Well it's, all of it's true. Just... put weeks instead of months."

Jemma gives a little perplexed sounding laugh. "Oh for pete's sake, Fitz."

"Don't tell my parents." Fitz blurts. "They've given their blessing and everything."

Jemma rolls her eyes. "Of course I'm not going to tell them. They'd be devastated."

"What, no. That's- I wouldn't go that far."

Jemma's face says she disagrees, but she doesn't argue. She nods toward the house. "C'mon, it's cold out here. Might as well see what new and exciting task they've cooked up for us."

Fitz scuffs his feet, not at all looking forward to more errands. "I hope they've at least got Mack flexing or something." He mutters.

Jemma laughs. "Yes, Me too."

"Hey. No. That's mine." He says it like he's scolding a dog.

"Hey, yes. You brought this on yourself."

Fitz can't really argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm constantly torn between calling his mom by her name or by "mum" since it's Fitz' point of view and most people don't think of their parents by their first name.


	8. Chapter 8

The funny thing is it isn't even the craziest thing Hunter has gotten him into. Mack is drinking his second glass of baileys with _so_  much extra whiskey, wearing a green paper hat that clashes terribly with Fitz' orange one, surrounded by people he barely knows and it is still not the weirdest thing he's been subjected to through Hunter's impulsive brand of stupidity.

On the other hand it is, in a round about way of thinking, one of the better dates that Hunter has set him up on. True, he and Fitz aren't actually dating (not officially) but Mack is genuinely having fun. So long as he doesn't think about it too much.

Apparently there was a reason he was good friends with Hunter. These past couple weeks have perfectly illustrated that Mack is just as much of an impulsive idiot as his friend.  
  
It's pathetic really, how fast he'd changed his tune when he'd heard Fitz explain why he'd called in the first place. When Fitz hung up he'd thought that'd be the end of it. But he sent a text, just in case. Mack had been well and truly doomed when Fitz had opened his mouth in the cafe and he'd realized the cute guy he'd been watching for the past two minutes was in fact the nervous guy who had called him for help three days previously.

Mack knows perfectly well why he agreed to be Fitz fake date. What he doesn't understand is why he hadn't just told Fitz straight up that he was interested in him. Mack has found life to be much easier when one just speaks their mind; this week certainly would have been less complicated if they were actually together, but there had been something about Fitz that seemed like he wouldn't just accept the easy route.

Or, more likely, that he wouldn't have believed Mack at all.

It's something Mack's thought about more than once this weekend. Mack knows he's going to ask Fitz on a real date when this is all over. They work well together and he's pretty sure he's not reading Fitz wrong. But sitting together like they are now, their chairs pushed close together and Fitz warm beneath his arm and pressed against his side, two more days seems like forever.

He feels a gentle nudging at his side, Fitz looking up at him with a frown. "You okay?"

Mack gives a little nod. "Yeah, just lost in thought."

"Maybe I should finish that for you." Fitz says, nodding to Mack's glass.

Mack huffs a laugh and hands it over. "You just don't want to get up to make another."

Fitz doesn't disagree, just presses a little closer and takes a sip of the thick drink.

They're at that point during dinner where they're all still at the table despite having cleared their plates, sitting in front of a pile of colorful paper from the opened crackers, drinking alcohol and regretting how much they've ate. It's pretty quiet. There's a conversation about fishing going on at the other end of the table, but for the most part everyone seems content to relax in relative silence. Mack predicts they'll sit there until some brave soul decides they've digested just enough to be the first to cut into the desserts.

It's probably gonna be Mack.

He groans at the thought of more food and slumps down farther into his chair and closer to Fitz.

"My thoughts exactly." Jemma says from where she's seated across from them, wearing the purple crown that had come from her own cracker and sipping her drink just as slowly as the rest of them.

Fitz gives a hummed disagreement. "He's thinking about getting pie." Mack doesn't even know how Fitz knew until he's adding, "Get me a..." Fitz takes one of those pauses that mean he can't find the word he wants. Mack feels Fitz' small shrug against his armpit when he continues, "a triangle. When you get yours."

"Yeah. Just a moment." He nods to Jemma. "You want one?" Mack has felt her eyes on him and Fitz most of the night. He's not entirely comfortable or sure how to talk to her, but she's Fitz' best friend (by both their admission) so he's trying.

"Gosh no. I'm all right for now."

Mack nods and looks back down at Fitz. "If I'm getting up you want a drink of your own?"

"This is fine."

Mack huffs at that and pulls himself to his feet. "Yeah, I bet." He runs his hands through Fitz' hair, because he wants to and he can, and can't resist teasing him just a bit. "One pie triangle comin' up."

Mack is so startled by the light slap to his ass that he barely hears Fitz' petulant "shut-up".

He knows he looks surprised when he turns to look at Fitz, but he doesn't have a chance to consciously correct the expression before he catches sight of Fitz' cheeky grin and his face is stretching into what is likely an extremely sappy smile.

He's pathetic, really.

Mack _really_  hopes he isn't reading this all wrong.

He's trying to find something to help lift the pie slices out of the pan without them completely falling apart when he hears Jemma in the dining room say, "You know what, maybe I will have a slice of pie. I'll be right back."

A moment later she's in the kitchen with Mack. She hands him a pie slicer and then moves right into his space. She's got one eyebrow raised and a crooked smirk on her face.

"You and Fitz aren't dating at all, are you?" She asks it in a low voice. Soft enough that no one else will hear and with an inflection that makes it clear she already knows the answer. She sounds amused.

Mack stops and forces a laugh, not sure there is any way to respond that will cause her to come to a different conclusion. "What makes you think that?"

She rolls her eyes. "Well Fitz already confirmed for me that you haven't been together for months. He tried to play it off like you'd been dating a couple weeks."

"And what makes you think we're not?" Mack asks. He's carefully scooping out pieces of pie and plating them, hoping it makes him seem less concerned about the conversation than he is.

She grins at him. "You."

Mack freezes. "Excuse me?"

Jemma shakes her head and leans closer. "You're very affectionate towards Fitz, which he seems to love by the way, but you always look amazed when he initiates the contact. It's kind of sweet, really."

Mack frowns. He's not exactly thrilled to hear that his pining has been obvious to someone other than himself. "That's it?" He asks, hoping he can still play it off like she's wrong.

"Yeah. You don't seem like the kind of guy to suffer from self doubt around someone you're already dating." She gives him a little pat on the arm. "Plus, you haven't denied it and you look like you want to bolt."

Mack's frown pulls into a scowl at that. "Just don't tell anyone else, alright?"

"Of course." She takes one of the pieces of pie and says, "You should totally go for it, by the way. Fitz is super into it. Oh, and if you hurt him I'll kill you."

Mack can't help but relax at that. He rolls his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."

She's almost out of the kitchen when she adds, "Hopefully not too much or you'll lose sleep from fear."

Mack huffs. "Yeah. That's what's keeping me awake at night."

She waggles her eyebrows at him over her shoulder before reaching her seat.

It's the shortest, most casual shovel talk he's ever been given and he tries not to focus too much on the part where she'd said 'Fitz is super into it' as he makes his way back to the table and reluctantly eats the, admittedly wonderful, apple pie that Theresa had made.

The drinking and the groaning of discomfort continue well into the evening. It's something that Mack is glad to see is apparently a universal aspect of holiday celebrations. Everyone filters into the living room, some with more food and others without, and Jemma's mother asks if there are any weird traditions in America that they don't practice here in the UK and Mack for the life of him can't think of anything to say.

Really, it had all been pretty similar.

Lacking anything better Mack tells them about the couple of years where he and his cousins had tried to start a tradition of watching cannibal movies on Thanksgiving. It had happened by accident once; they were channel surfing and happened upon "Alive" playing on some obscure satellite channel. Being young and mildly drunk they had of course found it to be hilarious in the most morbid way. After that the channel started playing "Soylent Green" and suddenly their plans for the rest of the night were established.

Mack can't help but be pleased by how amusing Fitz seems to find his story, immediately pulling out his phone to try and google the name of the channel. Of course Fitz would want to find a channel that plays cannibal movie on a day meant for being thankful, Krampus lover that he is. Fitz pouts when he doesn't find what he's looking for.

It's pretty adorable.

"I doubt they're still doing it." Mack says, "It must've been ten years now."

Fitz gives a funny hum of disappointment.

The house is warm from the fireplace and the evening stretches drowsily into night. Mack likes everyone he's met this weekend but he's kind of itching for everyone to head to bed. He's eager for a break from the show they're putting on and a chance to relax with just Fitz.

 

  
-

He's trying to find a comfortable position on the small bed when he feels the tentative hand on his shoulder. "Mack?"

"Hmm?" He turns his head and rolls onto his back to look at Fitz' frowning face.

"I uh... I wanted to ask. My mum, she uh... asked you about my... my mistake?"

"Your accident?"

Fitz nods. "Yeah, what did you say to her about it?"

Mack sighs. The conversation had been uncomfortable; he's not sure exactly what he said, but he remembers the basic ideas he had been trying to convey to her. He thinks over it, trying to determine how to word it for Fitz.

"She asked me if I knew what happened and I told her no." He shrugs against the pillow. "Told her you hadn't said and I hadn't asked." Fitz is frowning, probably confused by such a simple answer and Mack sighs. "Look, I met you after the accident. I don't know what you were like before, though I doubt you're as different now as you seem to think. I told your mom I didn't fall for the guy you used to be, and I don't think I have the right to be asking questions about him." He thinks over what he's said and gives a halfhearted laugh. "Does that make any sense? I guess I told her I didn't think it was any of my business."

Fitz looks terrified before he blurts. "Chemicals." He swallows and continues. "It was chemicals, in a, a strange device we were studying. They released and mixed and it took all the oxygen?"

Fitz takes a moment so Mack offers, "The chemicals reacted with and burned through the oxygen?"

Fitz nods. "The lab locks when it senses foreign... stuff. For safety. By the time they got past the protocol it had been too long."

Fitz doesn't look too upset, maybe a little shaky, but Mack gives in to temptation and pulls the smaller man into an odd sort of hug. Fitz _is_  shaking a bit, but his breathing is steady and he relaxes into Mack's hold easily.

"Thanks." Fitz mutters into Mack's shoulder.

"Feel any better?" He hopes so.

Fitz gives a small laugh, "Not really. Wasn't really a secret."

Mack shrugs. "Worth a shot."

That gets him another small laugh as Fitz tightens his own arms around Mack. "Maybe a bit." he admits.

Good enough, Mack thinks. Fitz falls silent. He doesn't pull away and Mack decides not to question it as he lets his eyes drift shut.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Christmas in July is a thing, right?

It's really hot.

Fitz wakes up and the bed feels like a furnace. He can't really move all that much, and it takes him a while to figure it out.

Mack's a solid press of heat against Fitz' back and over his hip, the heavy arm lying over his side feels like some kind of safety harness for one of those amusement park rides that Fitz never really liked and wanted to get off of right now. Fitz had never been claustrophobic before but he thinks this might be it. He freezes up a bit. Tells himself not to panic but somehow finds himself holding his breath.

The pressure against his back, against his shoulder blades, eases for a moment. Returns. Then eases again.

Fitz lets out the breath he's holding in a rush and breaths along with Mack.

Better.

Fitz kicks off the blankets as best he can without moving too much.

Better.

It's not so bad now. The cool air gives Fitz something to focus on and lessens the effect of Mack's body heat. Like this it's kinda nice. He takes another steady breath and relaxes a fraction more, letting himself lean into Mack's chest a little bit.

So this is... new. Or maybe not. They _had_  hugged a bit last night when Fitz was upset. Did it count as hugging if you're lying in bed? Fitz doesn't know. But Fitz doesn't think they fell asleep like that. They might have, but he's pretty sure he remembers rolling away and onto his side.

So at what point did Mack roll over to Fitz' side of the bed?

They're pressed together at most every point from head to toe. Or at least, from Fitz' head to toe. His head is tucked somewhere beneath Mack's chin and Mack's legs continue far past where Fitz has pressed his cold feet between Mack's calves. Fitz doesn't particularly want to move, trying to imagine how they're positioned from feel alone when it really occurs to him what all he's feeling.

Fitz stomach swoops and his face feels hot.

Fitz has never spooned with anyone before but he knows how it goes, can feel his hips against Mack's and really once he'd noticed _that_  it was hard not to notice the other thing.

Fitz isn't entirely sure where to go from there but shifting his hips, however unintentional it may have been, was clearly not the right choice. All that serves to achieve is some kind of sleepy sigh against the crown of his head and Mack's arms tightening around him further.

The complete opposite of putting some distance between them, really.

Fitz sort of just sinks back into it. Yeah, he could wake Mack up but that would sort of imply getting up and out of bed. He's not really ready for that either. It's still almost too hot, but Fitz knows that just outside the window it's cold and rainy, knows the floor will freeze his already cold feet, and the thought makes the heat seem suddenly perfect.

Besides, it's Christmas. If Mack wants to latch onto him in his sleep who is he to deny Mack, or himself, that little bit of comfort?

The bright white walls blur as he feels himself drifting back off to sleep, his mind fuzzy as he stares at the bedside clock. There's a funny thought, niggling just at the back of his mind that he can't quite grasp hold of.

There's something he's forgetting.

He tries to pull himself out of his fog. He's staring at the clock. Squinting. Mack's shifting around behind him, possibly waking up, possibly dreaming.

Fitz hates digital clocks, prefers having an analog face so he can visualize the passing of time.

He pushes himself up onto his forearms, looks around and finally notices the soft knocking.

Well jeez, how long's that been going on?

There's a moment, just long enough for Fitz to frown and wonder if he should panic, before the knocking stops and the door he's facing is slowly pushed open.

His dad freezes when their eyes meet before relaxing and giving a huff of amusement. "You know, for a few years there I thought you'd grown out of this habit."

Fitz is still frozen in place, propped up on his side with Mack's arm wrapped around his waist and hand splayed over his chest. He's still not sure how he feels about this cuddling thing, he's never shared a bed before, and he has no idea what his dad is talking about. He manages to ask, somehow. It comes out mostly as a questioning grunt from a gaping mouth but his dad seems to understand.

"Sleeping in on Christmas." His dad says. "I swear, we were the only parents on the block who woke up early and had to wait for the KID to get with the program."

Fitz nods, rather slowly, as he considers what his dad has said. "Got it. We'll be up or... down in a sec."

His dad nods. "If you hurry the pancakes from breakfast might not be completely cold."

"Yeah. Um. Thanks, dad."

Fitz isn't sure exactly why he's thanking his dad. Whether it's for coming to wake him up, saving him pancakes, or ignoring the fact that Mack's been wrapped around him like some kind of sleepy python for the entirety of their short conversation, but it feels like something he should say.

His dad rolls his eyes and closes the door.

Once the door has clicked shut Mack rolls away from him, hands rubbing his face as he clears his throat. "Sorry about that." he mumbles.

"How long've you been awake?" Fitz can't help but ask.

Mack huffs. "Not long. Your talk woke me up."

Fitz sighs and flops back onto the back. "We should probably get up."

"Yeah, gimme a minute."

Fitz glances over at Mack who, rather than sleepy, looks a bit uncomfortable. Fitz remembers the solid press of Mack's morning erection against his lower back and coughs awkwardly. "R-right." Fitz bites his lip. "I could leave?"

Mack finally smiles at that and waves a hand. "Nah. It's fine. Did I hear something about pancakes?"

  
II

Their arrival downstairs is met with sarcastic cheers and a couple of exaggerated "Finally"s, but everyone seems happy and the pancakes are indeed still warm.

"Well, if everyone's done eating..." Jemma shoots a look to Fitz and Mack, a warning perhaps, "then maybe we could start opening presents?" She's got that eager gleam in her eye that she always gets when she's on the verge of making some great new discovery.

Fitz can't help but feel a similar excitement twisting in his stomach. They're not kids anymore, and the gifts he gets every year are always pretty close to the ones he'd gotten the previous holiday, and there's always the requisite pair of socks he's been getting since he made a joke about it as a teen, but it's still terribly fun.

It's also a little nerve wracking; Fitz tends to get anxious about giving gifts.

Which reminds Fitz…

"You guys get started I have to… uh. I forgot the stuff." He gives everyone a reassuring smile and runs to the stairs.

All the present he bought were crammed into the second, smaller, duffel bag he had managed to drag along with him. He'd had everything wrapped at a kiosk in the mall, not trusting his own hands to stay steady long enough to get it done himself, and the cramped bag has smashed all the pristine corners of the wrapping paper down. They're no-longer perfect but they still look pretty darn nice. And now it looks like maybe Fitz _had_  done the wrapping himself. Good. He's not gonna tell them otherwise.

He stacks them into a careful pile and carries them down the stairs. He's going slower than he'd like, but he can't see very well over the stack in his arms and he doesn't want to drop anything. Or fall. Falling would be bad.

When he's gotten back to the living room it's clear that they've already sorted through the presents from under the tree, everyone seated in front of their own small piles. There's one on the floor at the end of the couch where everyone's left a seat open for him to take. He hands out his presents and flops down next to Mack, handing him the largest of the gifts once he's settled.

"I know we agreed not to bring gifts," Fitz says; he's getting better at this lying thing, "but I didn't want you to be the… the one person not with a present."

Mack huffs and grins. "Thanks, babe." He nudges Fitz with his shoulder. "So what's the protocol here?"

Fitz isn't sure what he means but his mum speaks up. "Everyone picks a present and we open them at once. Exchange thanks and then repeat." She smiles and looks pointedly at the present in Mack's lap. "So you can unwrap that whenever you reach the limit of your curiosity."

Mack huffs and nods. "I can be patient." As if to directly contradict the statement he pulls the box up to his ear and gives it a shake.

"Don't do that." Fitz blurts.

Mack grins. "Fragile?"

"Not really."

"Sure, Turbo."

Jemma's already ripping into her first gift and everyone else seems to have taken that as a sign to start. Fitz grabs the first present he gets his hands on, a small rectangle at the top of his present tower. It's a book. He doesn't need to unwrap it to know that, but from there it could go one of two ways: Either it's a non-fiction piece, or a super cheesy sci-fi novel. The kind he'd liked as a kid and no one seemed capable of forgetting.

Fitz is, quite frankly, relieved to see not an awful 80's style pulp-fiction cover, but instead one of the few Carl Sagan books he hasn't yet read. He gives a grateful grin to his aunt Evelyn who had watched the entire Cosmos series with him as a kid.

Jemma in turns gives her thanks for the new safety goggles he'd bought her and throws the wadded up wrapping paper in his face.

It continues, another two rounds of tearing paper and exchanging thank-you's before Fitz gets impatient and starts nudging Mack with his knee.

Mack finally starts opening his present and Fitz can't take it. He's nervous and excited and he's really hoping his gift isn't too dorky. He assures himself that it doesn't _actually_  matter, it's all for show anyway and Mack knows this. Mack just needs to _act_  like he likes Fitz' gift. But Fitz would still like to have not been completely off-base.

The sparkly snowflake wrapping paper has slipped away, Mack is grinning and he hasn't said anything before Fitz blurts, "I'm pretty sure we can make it fly."

Mack looks at the back where the specs and features for the build-your-own RC car are printed. He raises an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

Fitz scoffs. "Between the two of us? Yeah, of course."

Mack grins and taps at the picture of the classic car. "I like the red."

Fitz gives a little huff. "Well it had to be a cool enough model to bother with the flying."

"Well it's definitely the coolest remote controlled car I've ever seen." Mack's laughing around his words when he says: "c'mere". Fitz only has a chance to blink and move a little closer before Mack's hand is warm on his neck and he's pressing just the lightest kiss to Fitz' lips. "I love it." he says when he's pulled away.

"I uh-" Fitz is frozen and he's suddenly glad for his poor grasp on words or he'd probably have blurted something like "I love _you_ " in response. Instead he manages not to gape like a fish and says instead: "I'm glad."

He's still sitting a bit stiffly and a closer look at Mack makes Fitz think the other man might be just as surprised by his actions as Fitz was.

His mother's laughter interrupts the tense feeling in his gut and Fitz' eyes jerk away from Mack's. She's holding the hideous (but good quality) slipper socks he had bought her as payback for the years of similar knit garments she'd given him.

Fitz takes a deep breath and lets himself laugh with her. He glances at Mack, who doesn't seem tense any longer, and relaxes back into the couch.

There'll be time to think about it later. Fitz tells himself this and pulls the next present into his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. I promise I don't abandon works I just get distracted and forget about them for inappropriate lengths of time. 
> 
> But I'm back now.


	10. Chapter 10

Like every Christmas Fitz is the first to be bothered by the accumulated wrapping paper littered across the floor. Unlike Christmas's past, Fitz has someone helping him clean up the mess this year. He can't help but grin at Mack periodically as they both move around the room, bent over with arms full of colorful paper and bows. Eventually they manage to get it all up; Fitz has an arm load up to his chin, having refused to make multiple trips to the trash bin and Mack's load is equally impressive, though it looks less so compared to his overall size.

Fitz leads the way back to the kitchen, crumpled edges of paper digging into his chest and arms. He's just barely made it through the doorway when Jemma says, "Oh, Fitz?"

Fitz freezes. There's something about her voice that has him nervous. He feels Mack nudge his shoulder from behind with the backs of his hands. Fitz turns his head, ready to give the taller man a playful glare when he sees it. There's a tiny sprig of some sort of greenery crudely taped to the top of the door frame. Fitz has never seen, has never known anyone to actually decorate with it, but he knows. It's fucking mistletoe.

"That was _not_ there earlier!" He complains.

"It's tradition, Fitz!"

Fitz barely hears it, isn't sure who said it, but he's staring at the stupid plant when it filters through. "It is not! No one really uses it."

Mack, who up until now has been frowning down at Fitz in confusion, finally looks up. "Oh."

He glances back to Fitz and then sets his jaw as if coming to a decision. Mack gives a shrug, carefully moves the pile of paper into the crook of one arm, and then reaches up to grab the Mistletoe. He drops it onto the pile of trash and smirks.

Back in the kitchen there's a chorus of groans and Jemma's plaintive, "I had to use a _ladder_ to get that up."

"They'll get over it." Mack says with a grin.

Fitz gives a shaky sigh and grins, relishing the warm sense of relief. It's not that he doesn't want to kiss Mack again, he'd just rather it not be that way. Though, looking up at him now Fitz feels a little regretful. It would have been the perfect excuse, though Mack already had kissed him. Presumably as a display for the family. Possibly by accident. Fitz is still staring and Mack's got a slightly concerned look on his face now.

"Fitz?"

"Ah. Um. Thanks." Mack smiles again at that and, no, you know what? Fitz gives a shrug of his own, turns around and drops the paper in his arms all over their feet and the floor. He stands on his tippy-toes, because he doesn't want Mack to have to lean too far, and bunches his hands in the open collar of Mack's flannel to pull him down.

It's different than the last kiss. Firmer, mostly. Fitz had the guts to get them to this point but now he's not sure what to do next, and the lack of movement is made more apparent by the solid press of their lips.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Mack pushes forward into the kiss. His lips tug just barely at the skin on Fitz' own and Fitz gets it. He opens his mouth just enough to take Mack's lower lip between his and feels the fall of more wrapping paper against his feet. Warm hands land on his cheek and waist and there's a warm tongue sliding against his lips. Fitz can't help but interrupt to give a laughing grin.

"I thought I- I think I told you no making out." He waves a hand towards the kitchen where everyone's fallen silent. For once. "Y'know, in front."

Mack pulls up and away, a crooked smile on his face. "Ah, yeah. You did. But hey, we did pretty good. We held out a couple days."

Fitz wants to make a joke about restraint, but his mum beats him to it. "You know we don't have any plans for another couple hours, no need to hold back on our account."

Aunt Evelyn chimes in with a terrifying cackle and, "It's not a real vacation if you don't spend at least one day of it in bed."

Fitz groans and presses his now bright red face into Mack's chest and mutters, "Nope."

Fitz can feel Mack's laughter against his face. "You're all the worst." Fitz grabs Mack's hand and marches away, pleased when Mack follows. "Hope you're happy. Now I'm hiding and you can all pick up your own mess." he blurts as they pass through the kitchen and toward the stairwell.

Mack looks alarmed but he doesn't say anything until Fitz has got them shut into his bedroom. "You okay?"

Fitz sighs and gives a nod. "I don't like the- the watching." Mack gives him what Fitz has started to think of as the _go on_ face and Fitz huffs. "When everyone looks at me."

"You don't like being the center of attention."

"Right." He leans against the nearest wall and lets his head thump backwards. Now that they're out from under the eyes of his family Fitz isn't sure what came over him. His stomach is twisting in and out of loopy knots. "Nice uh…nice job. They seemed to be- bought. They bought it."

Mack is quiet for a moment. Fitz can hear his footsteps as he moves to the bed and the squeak of bed-springs when he sits.

"Fitz."

"Yeah."

Mack sighs and Fitz lifts his head to look over. Mack's got his hands folded between his spread legs and a serious look on his face. "Fitz. When this is all over? I'm gonna ask you out on a date. A proper one, with dinner and maybe a movie. I don't know yet. But when I ask you, please believe me when I say I'm deadly serious."

Fitz isn't sure what to say, his mouth is probably gaping a bit to match the equally unbecoming flush of his face.

Mack licks his lips and looks to the floor. "I wasn't planning to say anything until then but, given everything we've done today maybe I should have pointed it out sooner."

"Why?"

Mack looks back up with a frown. "Why what?"

Fitz plays with the hem of his shirt, nervous about the whole conversation. "Why are you going to ask me out?"

Mack looks baffled by the question, eyebrows raised and mouth relaxed. "Because I like you, Turbo."

Fitz can feel his mouth wobbling into a smile. "Why were you waiting?"

Mack gives him a rueful smile and shrugs. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Wasn't sure if you would be into the idea and I didn't want you to be stuck with me for the weekend if you weren't."

"Ah." Fitz pushes himself off of the wall and takes a couple steps closer to the bed. "It's not something I'd considered…before. But I. When you ask I'm saying yes." He's right in front of Mack now, another step and he'll be between the spread of his legs.

Mack leans back on his hands and grins. "Oh yeah?"

Fitz nods. He can't help but trail his eyes over Mack. Stretched back like that his t-shirt has stretched over his chest and shoulders to throw the muscles beneath into sharp relief. It's not the first time Fitz has admired Mack's body, it's hard not to, but there's something distinctly appealing about the ways he's practically laid out beneath Fitz. "You know…they uh. Everyone thinks we're having sex."

"Probably."

Fitz takes that last step towards the bed. He leans down and then they're kissing again. There's a lightness in his chest that wasn't there the last two times they'd done this. The reassurance that it's not all been calculated for show soothing some part of him he hadn't even known was upset.

Fitz can't help but slide his hands over those shoulders as Mack continues to brace his own and, increasingly, Fitz' weight upright. Fitz doesn't pull away when he feels Mack's tongue this time, just opens his mouth a little wider and enjoys the smooth slide against his tongue.

Fitz prods Mack in the chest with his forefinger, hoping to convey what he wants without having to break the kiss to ask. Mack seems to get it, relaxing onto his back, arms now free to wrap around Fitz' waist when he climbs over him. Mack scoots back farther up the mattress and Fitz follows, perched with his knees on either side of Mack's waist and elbows planted to the mattress above Mack's shoulders.

Fitz can't help but think he's starting to get the hang of this kissing thing when Mack's hands squeezing over his arse startles a long groan out of him. Fitz blinks his eyes open to find Mack grinning up at him.

"You know, Turbo, as much as I've enjoyed jumping straight into comfortable cohabitation with you, there's something to be said for the honey moon phase."

"Yeah?" Fitz is _pretty_ sure he knows what the honey moon phase is.

"Mmmhmm." Mack slides his hand up Fitz' spine to rest against his ribs. "Mostly all the making out and touching."

"Like teenagers." Fitz blurts.

"Exactly."

Fitz gives a little nod and lowers his body to rest on top Mack's. "Can we just do that for a little bit?"

Mack's face is already buried in the crook of Fitz' neck, the scratch of his facial hair sending a nervous thrill down Fitz' spine when he says, "Absolutely."

Fitz' neck becomes a blooming warmth as Mack opens his mouth to leave damp kisses against the sensitive skin. There's a moment of gentle suction and Fitz can't help but hiss, "Ah, shit."


	11. Chapter 11

The hardest part, now that they'd spent a good couple hours fooling around like teenagers, was going back to what the rest of the family was assuming to be normal. Fitz had to keep reminding himself not to cling too tightly to Mack because he just hadn't been doing that *before*. Fitz wasn't sure how he had kept himself from hanging all over Mack, but now he was cursing his previous restraint.

At least Mack had always been good about touching Fitz. Fitz was still able to appreciate the warm arm resting across the back of his chair at lunch. Fitz felt ridiculous. His face felt strained from periodically grinning and then remembering himself and trying NOT to smile. He didn't think he was doing a very good job since Jemma kept looking over at him with her own conspiratorial smile. On top of that he found himself randomly remembering details about earlier and suddenly he'd find himself with a fluttery heart and warm cheeks.

It was awful.

It was embarrassing.

They hadn't even *done* all that much but he feels like he's suddenly gained an incredible new secret.

He's got his nose buried in a pint to try and hide another stupid grin. He slaps halfheartedly at Mack's hand as the other man steals a bite of the meat pie he'd ordered for lunch. He'd tell Mack to eat his own food but his plate had been long cleared of both fish and chips and Fitz had already had a hard time telling the man "no" *before*.

Fitz managed to turn his attention back to the conversation taking place around the rest of the table. His mum was describing the wedding of one of her friend's daughters that happened over the summer and Fitz is pretty sure he remembers who Mallorie is. And then he hears it.

His mum sounds so perfectly sweet when she asks, "Are you seeing anyone, Jemma?"

Fitz' eyes lurch to Jemma whose eyes are now held open wide with uncomfortably relatable fear. "Not exactly." She says with forced cheer.

"Well that's a shame. I can't imagine a lovely girl like you would be lacking interested young men." Fitz's dad says, and Fitz has to resist rolling his eyes.

"You can't just *say* stuff like that." Fitz groans.

"Well why not?" he huffs.

Fitz' mum butts back into the conversation she started. "No dates?" She gets a look. "Mack, you wouldn't happen to have any single friends, would you?"

Mack grins and shakes his head. "I'm staying out of this one."

Jemma rolls her eyes and huffs. Her own mother is nodding solemnly along with the rest of them and she puffs her cheeks out in frustration before saying, "It's not that I'm not interested in anyone, I've just not had the time. I'm very busy!"

"So there is someone?" Jemma's dad grumbles.

Jemma's eyes, if possible widen further. "No! I just-- Fitz and Mack haven't even slept together!"

Fitz manages not to spew beer across the table, but only by spitting it directly back into his glass. "What the hell, Jemma!?"

"I panicked!" She squeaks.

Now everyone's attention has turned to Fitz. "Really?" His mum asks.

"Why the hell not?" Aunt Evelyn crows from the far end of the table.

"I- forget me. She's hiding something." Fitz says, pointing to Jemma.

"*Fitz*" Jemma hisses.

"We'll get back to that in a minute." His mum says. "Is she right? Leo, sweetie, you said you'd been together for months."

Fitz just groans and buries his face in his hands. He has no idea how to dig himself out of this one because yeah, he'd have to be crazy to date a guy like Mack for as long as they've claimed without getting as acquainted with him in a "being naked" kinda way as physically possible. Fitz turns his face just enough to look up at Mack beside him, hoping Mack will have come up with another of his quick thinking lies. He hasn't. In fact Mack has stolen Fitz beer and it looks like he's drinking it just to keep his hands and mouth occupied.

Fitz' face scrunches up in distaste. That beer is at least 25% backwash now. He turns his face toward Jemma with a glare that he hopes conveys *you better have a good excuse because you're giving it to me later*.

"How, ah. How many months did I say?" Fitz winces around the words and hopes no one else can hear the shaky quality of his voice.

"Leopold!" His mum scolds.

"What?" Fitz groans.

"How long have you and Mack been together? Really?" She asks.

Fitz doesn't know what to say. He gives a helpless shrug and looks to Mack, who's looking sympathetic. Jemma looks miserable and Fitz doesn't feel much better so he just mumbles, "Not very long?" Fitz' mum just raises her eyebrows, clearly waiting for Fitz to elaborate. "Uh…"

Today had been going so well up until now. Arguably one of the best Christmases he'd had as an adult. Fitz knows he should tell them the truth. If he and Mack are going to actually date, they should probably just fess up now, but god he doesn't want to. Mack's giving him a grim look over the beer glass and Fitz gives a sad little sigh.

"Was it Friday?" he asks and Mack gives a small nod. "Yeah. Friday."

"You've only been together a week?" His mum whispers in the forceful manner that implies she'd be yelling if they weren't in public. Everyone else is dead silent.

"We uh, we met." Fitz mumbles.

"Well, we did talk on the phone once before that." Mack adds.

Fitz quickly blurts, "That does *not* count."

"What-" his mother interrupted, face slack in confusion, "Why would you bring someone you barely knew? Why did you lie about it?"

"Well what was I meant to say? Hey mum, I'm bringing an- a new friend so I don't have to be alone with all of you?" Fitz huffed, then frowned when he realized what he'd said. "Not…not like that I mean, I just wanted someone to… to not look sad at me." That statement at least makes the rest of the table fall silent. "It wasn't like, planned or anything. I just..." he's not sure how to word what he wants to tell them. He shifts in his seat a beat and gives Mack a desperate look. "Help?"

Mack shakes his head and gave a shrug. "You got this, Turbo."

Fitz gives a little huff. He doesn't *want* to got this. "It's just…It's *easier*. Being around people who only know me now. And if I brought someone it would sort of take the…the focus off of me." Fitz frowns. "Or not off me, but off of what I used to be."

Fitz stops talking and hopes that's good enough for everyone else because that's about all he's got in him. He's tired. Jemma's mum is giving him a sympathetic nod, and his dad looks grimly understanding. His mum though still has a look on her face that says she's determined to be upset about this. She clears her throat and gives him a look Fitz can't decipher until she says, "So you and Mack are not together?"

Fitz mouth opens, ready to answer, only to stop when he realizes he doesn't *know*. Fitz ends up only managing to voice, "Uh..." and unless his voice has become significantly deeper in the last three seconds, he's not the only one who just tried and failed to answer the question.

It's at this point that the waitress, bless her soul, drops off their bill and cheerfully asks if they enjoyed the meal. She's clearly a pro at ignoring tense situations and Fitz is so tempted to thank her that he does in fact say, "Great, thank you." and hope she gets what he's really trying to say. "You got this?" he asks his dad, who'd grabbed the bill first. Fitz doesn't wait for any kind of response, knows his dad always offers to pay for lunch, and stands up. "We're gonna go." He grabs Mack's sleeve and encourages him to stand. "You coming Jemma?"

Jemma looks so grateful she actually trips a bit in her rush to stand from the table. They don't give an explanation and they don't wait for any of their parents to ask; everyone's aware that this is an escape.

The little brewery is close enough to home that they'll be able to walk back, but not enough that they won't be uncomfortably cold when they get there. Fitz really hopes they still have some of that instant cocoa mix hiding somewhere in the pantry.

They're all silent for the first couple minutes of their walk; the sound of their boots scuffing the dirt side path and the sound of an occasional passing car the only sounds as they go.

They're about half a kilometre from the restaurant when Jemma says, "I'm sorry you guys."

"It's fine." Fitz mutters.

Mack looks over his shoulder from where he's leading with his long legs and grins. "We probably would have had to tell them eventually."

Fitz can't help but feel relieved to hear that Mack had been thinking the same thing.

"I just… I'm just not sure what is going on, romantically, on my end." She gave a shaky sigh. "I wasn't lying at the table. I'm very busy and romance really isn't something I'm invested in right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not interested in people." She huffs, and rolls her eyes. "Too many people. It seems that I'm not the best at making decisions and since it's not my top priority I just haven't." The end of her sentence was spoken in a higher, slightly distressed voice. She shakes her head.

"It's ok, Jemma." Fitz mutters, still feeling bad about what had happened at lunch. "You don't have to explain."

"No, but I do." She says earnestly. "My issues are the reason you've now been outed to your mum. I know how she can be. Plus," she pauses for a moment, gives a little shrug. "You guys seem so sweet together, I'm actually a bit jealous."

Mack actually laughs at that, and Fitz can't help but give her a smile. "Don't be." He jokes.

Mack scoffs. "Hey now." He gives Jemma a long look and asks, "These people you're interested in, they get along?"

Jemma perks up at that a nods. "Yes, they're two peas in a pod."

Fitz frowns at the phrasing. It sounds so cheesy. But Mack nods and says, "They you should talk to them about it. Find out how they feel about it."

"What?" Jemma splutters, "Sure I'll just tell them both I'm interested the next time we're out getting drinks."

Mack shrugs. "Yeah. I mean do it however you think would be best, you know them, I don't. But tell them. Worst case scenario things are a little awkward for a while. But if you talk you can get a gauge on whether either of them are interested in you or not. Maybe that'll make it easier to make a decision."

"What if they're both interested and it just makes it all even harder to decide."

Mack nods, understanding. "Well, you said they get along."

Jemma just laughs, loud and startled sounding in the cold air. "Now there's a crazy idea."

"Hey now, sometimes crazy ideas work out all right."

Mack must have given Fitz a meaningful look when he said it because Jemma's head whips over to Fitz and she seems to visibly perk up. "How *did* you two meet, anyway?"

Fitz' lips pull down into a sharp frown, head shaking when he says, "I'll tell you when it stops being embarrassing."

She groans. "So, never?"

"Never." Mack agrees.


End file.
